Fractured Memories
by Bitmad
Summary: Kelsy was a struggling college student drowning in debt when she died. She woke up to find herself within the world of Harry Potter, in an era unfamiliar to her. Armed with the knowledge of the future, she begins her new life with the determination to make more of her life and right the wrongs of her youth. - Reincarnation Insert -
1. Prologue

Payment Charge Late Fee: $36.

Account Statement Balance: $1,498

Gazing down hopelessly at the one of several accounts on her cellphone, all of which had similar figures that were behind on their due dates. How much had she been charges in just the last year for late fees? Kelsy wasn't at all certain, but she knew it amounted to more than a hundred dollars. She tapped her foot impatiently as she waited at the crosswalk for the symbol to change. Despite how nice the day was, it was hard to pull herself out of the abysmal mental trench she was in seeing that she'd just left her 1st job to head to her 2nd.

All this debt was in part due to not wanting to be late on rent or student loans. Other parts of it was because she'd decided to buy something for herself because she didn't think a few more dollars on her debt would matter in the long run. At least, she'd told herself that for a long time as she charged $20 or $30 once a week onto the card without an after thought, trying to be blissfully unaware of the looming mountain that was money.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Kelsy glanced down and noticed that her watch was beeping insistently, indicating that her shift at the restaurant had began. With a hiss of frustration and a small glance up at the nearby billboard, the sinking feeling returned to the pit of her stomach. On the billboard was the latest Harry Potter movie, a series that she'd kept up with fervently as a child as she grew up alongside of the main characters. However, those movies were in long since in the past, nearly having been 8 years since the last movie had been released. Kelsy had never bothered with the new ones, she simply didn't have enough time.

_If I'm late again he's going to fire me,_ she thought, tearing her eyes down and glaring across the street where the light had yet to change. There were barely any vehicles passing by and Kelsy decided she might as well go across now. Taking herself in stride, she began on the crosswalk, turning up the music on her phone. She never heard the roar of the bus's horn as brakes screeched. It all happened in an instance, a young woman looking to get to work, who was already late and in a hurry, took a step out onto the road and was sent flying several feet onto the pavement with a sickening thud. Blood pooled beneath her head and the fallen phone flickered betwixt her fingers, the screen cracked and reading: Would you like to make a payment?

* * *

_Greetings, this is my first fanfiction. I've been a long time lurker and decided to do a self insert - reincarnation story. Although, the self insert is by no means me, but simply an OC from our realm of reality._

_I would really appreciate feedback on the story thus far, so please drop a review and let me know how I'm doing. Thanks!_

_\- Bitmad_


	2. Chapter 1: Malfoy Manor

The room was dark and oddly disconcerting. Dark black wooden ceilings arched above with elegant, emerald wallpaper connecting below. Fingers splayed through a thick and lush blanket, of the likes that she'd never known such quality. Turning her head she glanced idly over at the door and the oil lantern that was turned to a dim light on the nightstand beside her. An immaculately cleaned bookcase stood against the wall flanking it, made of dark polished wood and filled to the brim with various book. _Dead. I should be dead._

The empty thoughts floated above her toward the high ceiling and she let them go, glancing to the side to see if there was a medical setup in close proximity. Noticing that it was lacking, she sat up and glanced down at herself, noticing small hand that were seemingly unharmed. Just where was she. One leg over the other, she stepped out of bed, bare toes against the cold stone floor as she headed toward the massive door. She turned the brass doorknob in her hand, which was also startlingly cold compared to the warm bed she'd just gotten out of. However, her confusion only mounted when she stepped out into the dim hallway and onto a thin dark carpet that ran the length.

Slowly, she made her way through the hall, holding her arms close for comfort as she scanned the decorations in front of her. Stone gargoyles, serpentine statues, suits of armor that looked as if they'd come to life, and many, many paintings of important people... but they all appeared to be sleeping, which she found to be rather odd. Wherever she was, it was enormous and endless. She contemplated turning around and going back to her room, but when she turned she found that the entire hall looked exactly the same and a wave of confusion consumed her.

"Rhoswen?" a man's voice behind her made her jump slightly and she turned to see a gentleman in a fine sable robe standing with a thin piece of wood in his hand. The tip of the wood illuminated the sect of the hall that they were in, the nearby sconces only casting light so far. He was a very refined man, his pale white blonde hair swept back from his face and cropped against the nape of his neck, a perfectly curled and trimmed mustache on his upper lip, which even at this time of night was still well groomed. "I don't believe it. And Saint Mungo's didn't believe you would wake up. But I knew my little princess was made of finer stuff, that the artefact wouldn't kill you as it did to so many muggles."

Her brows furrowed and she took an involuntary step backward. "What? I..." but words failed her at that moment and the voice that escaped her parted lips made her gasp. This was not the voice of Kelsy Gardner, this was the voice of a young English girl. Gasping, she covered her mouth in mild horror as she eyed the piece of wood and realized it was a wand. "What's going on?" she asked finally, her voice cracking and panic seizing her heart, her small figure trembling slightly as she kept out of reach from the man.

"Rhoswen? What's wrong? Darling, don't you recognize me?" the man took a step toward her, but realizing how terrified she was, he drew away with a penchant countenance. "I should have known we wouldn't get away scott free. It's a miracle you're alive at all... there were bound to be repercussions," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "Come, I'll fetch the healer and we'll have her take a look at you."

The man motioned for her to follow, but she hesitated. Where else did she have to go but forward? Slowly, she forced herself to follow after him, her perturbedness only increasing as their voices had roused the nearby paintings. They had begun stirring and moving, their voices kept low, but even so they rolled off the cavernous halls so that she could still make out some of their words.

"Lost her memor-"

"Child has actually woken up."

"Didn't think that would happen. You say-"

"Little demon is back, was hoping that artefact would-"

Eventually, the hall came to an end and they turned down a much smaller corridor. A creature had an arm full of linens in front of them, large batty ears flopping about it and enormous round eyes turning up like full moons. A slight squeak escaped their lips as they noticed the two of them approaching.

"S-sir, madame," the house elf squeaked, standing up right and proper.

"Lickspittle go find the healer and tell her to report immediately to my solar," the man snapped, sending the elf in a tizzy to do as it was told. Once the wrinkly creature fled he glanced over at her and rolled his eyes. "Dreadful creature. I think I'll have him whipped if she does this task wrong. There's only so many times I can stand incompetence."

His cold words made her swallow hard, especially since they were followed up with a warm smile. How could a man be so frigid toward a servant and yet warmer than a summer day to her? Continuing through more twists and turns, they eventually approached a large set of double doors that led into an immense office. With little effort, the man lit the candles around the room with a flick of his wrist and found himself comfortable in the emerald velvet chair behind the desk. Neat files of parchment were stacked alongside some expensive looking books.

She simply stood awkwardly in front of the desk, waiting for the healer to arrive. Arranged on shelves were various strange items. One was a skull with long fangs and eye sockets unakin to a human. Another was a mummified rodent of some sort, but its eyes were bulging and humongous along with fangs that could probably break bones.

Soft, but quick footsteps, resounding from the entrance came a woman in dark robes, the sigil of a wand and bone crossed upon her breast. She paled considerably in the light when she set eyes on the girl and was absolutely taken aback that she was standing in the solar.

"Sir you called?" she inquired, a slight tremble in her voice, trying not to look at the child.

"Yes, Rhoswen has awoken and I wanted you to do a proper examination. I believe she might have lost her memory," the man told her dismissively, waving his hand as he became occupied with some of the papers on his desk.

"Given that she had even awoken sir, I would say that's a possibility... Rhoswen come here please," the woman motioned her forward. Pulling out her wand she began poking and prodding at various parts of her, checking to be certain that nothing was broken. Once she was satisfied with the physical aspect she gave her a hard look. "Where are you?"

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Who are you?"

"Rhoswen apparently?"

"Rhoswen who?" the woman insisted.

"I don't know," a frustrated hiss came from Rhoswen's mouth as she glared up at the woman. "I don't know what's going on. I don't know why he can light candles without a match. I don't know who he is or who you are."

The woman in front of her settled back on her haunches, glancing over her head and toward the man. "It's almost as if she's been severely obliviated."

"But she wasn't," he said plainly. "Can this be fixed?"

"If she were obliviated I would say maybe, sir, but in this case I don't believe so. She'll need adjusting, but other than that she is healthy inspite of that atrocious token that was left here," the witch said, straightening and smoothing her robes as she tucked her wand away. "Sir all I can suggest is you explain things as clearly as possible to her."

"Very well, you may go... Rhoswen, come sit with me," the woman left and Rhoswen was left approaching the pale haired man with caution. He turned his chair around and stared out through the several long windows that made up the back wall of the solar. Being that it was night, the expansive sky was illuminated with millions of tiny stars. She'd never gotten to see them like that, she'd always been in a city where stars were hard to see due to light pollution."I am thankful that you're here with me now, but there must be so many questions you have."

"I do... I'm just confused," she admitted, staring out the window.

"Confused about what?" he inquired gently.

"Everything. How I got here? Where did I come from? Is what I am seeing real?"

"So you truly have no memory, you're a blank slate?"

Rhoswen turned her eyes toward him and saw the disappointment on his face. The daughter he had once known was gone and replaced with this stranger who did not know him or of this world. In fact, he didn't know that this couldn't have been further from his daughter. She had memories, but not of this world. "I guess," she couldn't bring herself to say that she had memories of another life, as the life of Kelsy Gardner. This was her new beginning. Her chance to grow up again with the knowledge of an adult. Now she could go and do everything right, unlike when she was a young and impressionable child.

"Then we'll start from the beginning. I am your father, Abraxas Malfoy. This place that you're in? It's our family estate. You have an older brother named Lucius Malfoy, he's 5 years your senior," Abraxas explained, his words sending a chill straight into Rhoswen's bones.

Malfoy? She was quite familiar with the movies, but very vaguely recalled the books. In fact, if she was just a child, then Lucius wouldn't be the fully grown adult she knew from the series. Her mind began rapid firing. The tiny details all around her had screamed Harry Potter, but she'd not wanted to acknowledge it. She was Rhoswen Malfoy, the daughter of a hateful and cruel family. Perhaps Kelsy Gardner had perished back in her world, but she certainly hadn't been prepared to be smacked with this alternate life.

She must have made a face, because her father leaned toward her. "Is something the matter?" he asked her kindly.

"Just a bit peckish. How long have I been in that bed?" she averted the subject. Maybe she was alive as Kelsy and this was some crazy lucid dream in a medically induced coma. She was literally in the Harry Potter universe, but the time-frames were what was confusing her. "What year is it?"

"1971," Abraxas said offhandedly.

Harry Potter wasn't even born yet, let alone a thought in the heads of his parents. To think that she already knew what was going to happen in two decades' time. But... she never recalled Lucius having any siblings in the movies or the books. What is Rhoswen was never intended to survive whatever ordeal they believed had made her lose her memory?

_I could alter the timelines here..._ she realized. Every action she did would ripple and create a butterfly effect. The idea made her feel more ill than before.

"Let's get you some food, you do look a bit pale," Abraxas decided, taking her gently by the arm and leading her out of the solar.

"How old am I?" she asked him as they made their way out into the hall.

"You've just turned 11 on January 25th this year," he informed her.

They entered the kitchens through a pantry which Abraxas snagged a couple of pastries from the shelf. At this hour, the kitchen was remarkably quiet. He pulled up a chair and had Rhoswen sit upon it, offering her the food he had grabbed.

Rhoswen hadn't thought herself too hungry, but when it was placed right in front of her she found herself unable to control how veracious she was. The pie was flaky and filled with a warm pumpkin filling. She washed it down with a glass of milk and glanced over at the man who was staring at her intently with eyes that were reserved only for a father looking at his child.

It nearly broke her head to see him giving her that look, unaware that she wasn't truly Rhoswen. Instead, she tried to mask the feeling by chugging the rest of her milk without pausing for air.

"Everything is going to work out," her father was saying, but he seemed to be trying to convince himself that. "And we can return your letter to Hogwarts come morning as well. I did not believe you would be well enough in time for your first year but... Hogwarts is your secondary school. You'll live there for the year and attend various classes like Potions and Charms."

Rhoswen wasn't going to ask, given she already knew about it, but realized how strange it might look if she never asked any questions about anything magical. She even recalled some spells from the movies. School at Hogwarts, the dream of every child growing up watching the Harry Potter series. Now she was actually going to live it. She should have been elated, but there was still a great sense of discomfort as she set her mug down.

"Does Lucius go there?" she asked, he should have been 16 by her calculations.

"Yes, he'll be in his 6th year. If you ever need help, you brother will be there for you. We Malfoys pride ourselves in many things, especially academic prowess and our care for our family."

_And blood purity if I'm not mistaken,_ she thought, gazing up at him with round eyes.

"We will collect your school supplies tomorrow. You should get some sleep before the morning and allow yourself to decompress. I expect you're a bit overwhelmed from everything you've heard," Abraxas commented motioning for her to hop down and head toward the exit.


	3. Chapter 2: School Supplies

Rhoswen was anxious for morning to come, wondering if she would wake up to nothing and return to the broken life of Kelsy Gardner. Instead, she opened her eyes, the light filtering softly through the thick silk curtains by her bed. Now that there was more natural light in her room she gathered the enormity of it. This one room was the same size as her entire flat. She managed to figure out how to bathe and clothe herself, unfamiliar with the smooth skin and tiny hands and feet she had. She could have sworn she had a few more bumps and bruises as a child, but Rhoswen belonged to that of a very prestigious family and she wouldn't have been expected to any sort of manual work.

The clothes in the wardrobe were all dark, which wasn't completely unexpected. She put on a set of robes and gazed into the mirror at a face she did not recognize. Her hair was a very pale color, but lacked the yellow hue of her father, instead it was bone white. Her features were pale and akin to porcelain, cheeks tinged rose slightly, and her eyes a grey blue. She looked like a little doll.

A soft knock came from the door and Rhoswen went and opened it herself. Lickspittle was standing on the other side, gazing up at her with those luminous and round eyes. "Master said to wake and freshen you up-"

"I've already got that arranged. I figured the tub out myself and picked out some clothes," she informed her with a smile.

"You... don't need anything of Lickspittle?" the house-elf looked forlorn. "Has Lickspittle done something to offend you madame that you would not want her to help?"

"Uh... No, I can just take care of myself," Rhoswen said quickly as the elf gave her a doleful look.

"Master said you forgot everything. Perhaps you forgot that Lickspittle used to help you?"

"Yeah... Yeah that's it. I forgot. I'm sorry Lickspittle."

"Oh the mistress must never apologize to a lowly house-elf such as myself. So stupid! Lickspittle should have realized that the young madame would not realize such things," the elf turned and banged her head hard against the open door, the rhythmic thuds of her head resounding in the room.

"Lickspittle... Lickspittle stop it!" Rhoswen grabbed hold of the door and tugged hard to free it from her hands. "Can you just bring me to where everyone else is? I don't remember the path through the manse."

"Lickspittle can do this," the elf perked up despite the beating she had just given herself. "This way, madame."

Lickspittle led the way, adorned in little more than a burlap sack that had likely been fashioned from a bag of potatoes. She was eager to help, despite the conditions that she was forced to live in.

How she could stand it at all was beyond Rhoswen. She'd watched it in the movies with Dobby, but seeing it first hand with a Malfoy house-elf was something else entirely. You knew the movies weren't real, but Lickspittle trying to dash her skull in had been quite real.

Lickspittle led her through the twisting and turning halls, finally bringing her to a lovely room that was encased in a globe of glass and overlooked the rear gardens. Sitting at the table with a copy of The Daily Prophet was her father, Abaraxas. He was adorned in a dark suit that was finely tailored and had an exquisite print that was only discernible up close.

Sitting at the table was a long haired youth with pale blonde hair that matched his father. There was a slight yellowish tinge to it, unlike Rhoswen's hair. His eyes were also grey and he had many similar features with his father aside from the lack of mustache. Lucius's eyes brightened at the sight of her and he actually slipped up from his chair to stand up to greet her.

"I could barely believe when I heard father tell me that you had awoken... You know who I am, right?" he prompted, his voice smooth and calm, but his eyes alarmingly bright.

"Lucius?" Rhoswen pieced together easily.

"I told you she would remember her own brother, father," Lucius cast an impudent look at Abraxas before taking his seat again.

Abraxas glanced up slightly from his paper and gave Rhoswen a sly look before returning to what he was reading. Rhoswen took the final open seat and reached for a fresh orange that had already been peeled and cut up.

"Would you look at this? More ravings from mudbloods. I don't know what this paper is turning into nowadays."

"Not for too much longer, father," Lucius smirked into his porcelain and painted cup of tea. With a soft clatter he set it back down on the saucer and glanced over at Rhoswen. "Are you excited to go shopping for school? I know before-" a sharp look from their father made him falter. "You weren't so keen."

"I'm excited. Learning magic sounds wondrous," Rhoswen told him honestly. "What is Hogwarts like?"

"It a very old and large castle hidden up in Northern Scotland. There's a Great Hall, dozens of classes, dungeons, a lake... Pretty much everything. The castle itself has many spires and still looks as wondrous as when it was first built. This is not decaying castle. While I will admit not everything is up to parr... some desks and materials are quite old. But don't fret about their miserable supplies, we will purchase top equipment for you," Lucius promised, continuing on the minor details about Hogwarts. He mentioned a poltergeist named Peeves and that once she was sorted into Slytherin she could just threaten him with the Bloody Baron. But the more Lucius gushed, the more worried that Rhoswen became.

What if she wasn't sorted into Slytherin?

_Just as long as I'm not sorted into Gryffindor I'll be fine, right?_

"And don't mind the head master either. He's never been too fond of the Malfoys, but I always say it's out of jealousy for how pure our lines are," Lucius concluded, alluding to Albus Dumbledore.

"He's a bit of a crock, but an impeccable wizard nonetheless. One we shouldn't undermine," Abraxas reminded Lucius, rolling up the paper and setting it down on the table with a soft pat. Pushing his chair back he glanced between his two children. "Are you ready to go to Diagon Alley? I have a few places I would also like to go in Knockturn. Lucius I trust that you can assist your sister in collecting her supplies?"

"Of course father," Lucius said, taking Rhoswen's supply list from the older man.

"Come now, Rhoswen with me so I can explain how this works," Abraxas grabbed a dark half cloak and threw it around his shoulders in a dramatic twirl. He had a rather vampiric or gothic look to him, so pale and stark against the dark garb he was adorned in. "Now we're going to use the Floo Network to get to Diagon Alley. Utilizing some Floo Powder and a fireplace, it allows us to travel through the network to other locations. Make certain that you speak very clearly when you are stating 'Diagon Alley' or you might end up in the wrong chimney."

"Are there other ways to get to Diagon Alley aside from the Floo Network?" Rhoswen asked.

"You can disapparate... Or... teleport there, but you have to have a license to do that. It requires very adept knowledge and skill or you could get splinched or injured from disapparating incorrectly. You wouldn't begin learning how to disapparate until you're 17, so you've got a long while before then. Otherwise you can use the Leaky Cauldron to access Diagon Alley, but only mudbloods who have never been utilize that entrance. All other magic folk use the first two options," Abraxas explained carefully.

The trio made their way to a long dining hall where a neatly cleaned and polished table sat with candelabras that flickered dimly beneath the black marble arches above. A grand fireplace flanked the back of the table and upon the mantle was an urn encircled by a serpent. Abraxas turned the top of the urn and lifted it from its seat before offering it to Lucius first so that he could demonstrate the proper manner.

Jitters filled Rhoswen as the idea that this would be the first bit of magic she would be conducting herself. Lucius reached forward and took a step beneath the mantle and into the fireplace which was large enough for him to stand without ducking.

Raising a fist he cleared stated, "Diagon Alley!" before throwing the dust down at his feet. In a bright roar of envious green flames, Lucius was consumed entirely and he vanished from sight. A few small flames flickered in his wake and Rhoswen stared dumbfounded at what she had witnessed.

"Go on then, Rhoswen," her father ushered.

She took a tentative step over the remaining flames, apprehensive that what was smoldering might catch the hem of her robes. She turned around and accepted a handful of the powder, which began to slide between her fingers and slough to the ground. Raising her fist up, her heart hammered heavily in her ears like the beating of a drum before she threw it at her toes and shouted, "Diagon Alley!"

Now, she recalled the first time Harry Potter had used Floo Powder, he'd not been clear enough

and ended up in Knockturn Alley. However, when she opened her eyes, she found that was standing in an unfamiliar fireplace and Lucius was waiting for her just outside the landing platform. He motioned her forward and Rhoswen hurried after him.

"You'll want to get out of those fireplaces quickly or you will cause it to back up," Lucius informed her, the siblings flanking one another as they exited the area and stepped out into the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

The streets were overflowing with witches and wizards in a tizzy to get prepared or their children prepared for the next year at Hogwarts. Each building was fashioned in an old English style with glass storefronts to display their wares and neatly painted signs. Rhoswen ogled at it all, drawing in the minute details and the queer attire of those around her. From the movies, it'd been made to seem that witches and wizards would wear muggle clothes on the streets, but it was quite polar. Everyone wore various forms of robes in pastels, jewel tones, or dark neutrals. Muggles and their children were easily discernible by their clothes along with the somewhat distressed expressions on their faces.

There was a strange characteristic to the buildings around them, as if they were lopsided and the angles were quite perfect. Rhoswen found comfort in the shops, a deep homeyness that she couldn't explain. Lucius let her look for a bit before clearing his throat.

"Let's start with your wand first," Lucius said, glancing at the list. "We can get a good portion of your supplies at Madam Malkin's."

Lucius led her down the road to a very familiar shop. There were no other wand shops on Diagon Alley but the sole and only Ollivanders. The peeling gold letters above the door read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B. C. A solitary wand was displayed on a fade violet cushion in the dusty window. The bell tinkled behind them and it became apparent how much smaller the shop was than the movies led you to believe.

The room was nearly entirely empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Hundreds... no thousands of narrow boxes that held wands were piled all the way up the ceiling, making Rhoswen wonder how anyone could navigate through them, let alone select one without the entire mountain toppling over. A bell tinkled behind them and moments after entering a very small and whispy old man, his eyes twinkling through the gloom of the shop.

Before Garrick Ollivander had the slightest moment to inquire, Lucius strode forward, wringing his gloves fingers in a condescending manner as he looked down at the man with disdain. "Where is the selection of your finest wands?" he questioned tartly.

"All of my wands are of the finest quality," Mr. Ollivander told him, raising his his fluffy brows at him.

Lucius scoffed. "There must be some that utilize more potent cores or use a rare wood. Only the best product for Malfoys."

"The wand chooses the wizard," Rhoswen repeated aimlessly.

Both Lucius and Garrick looked at her, the elder man with a bemused expression on his face.

"Indeed. Are you here for your first wand, Ms. Malfoy?"

Taking steps toward him she nodded eagerly. By now Rhoswen had been thinking about how dedicated she was going to be to her studies. She needed a wand that would suit her, not one that was simply fancier than the others. She had the opportunity to study magic and she had promised herself that she was going to get top marks with this new chance at life.

Mr. Ollivander turned and began rummaging through the boxes until he found one that he was pleased with. He blew a layer of dust off the top and opened the box to reveal a pale white wand with some fine detailing in the handle. He carefully picked it up and offered it hilt down to Rhoswen.

She had barely held it for more than 3 seconds before he took it back and shook his , she glanced at him, but he was already putting the wand away and murmuring how it wasn't the right fit. Half of her expected to be told to swing it around to see how it fared, but this method went on and on for a while. Eventually, it got to the point where Lucius was growing restless.

"Here, take this money and come find me at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. You can't miss it, very bright purple store front," he plopped a purse of coins in her hand and stormed out of the shop with the flourish of his cloak.

Rhoswen, standing with one hand clutching the purse, glanced back at Garrick who had watched Lucius exit. "I was wondering when he would leave. He was nearly just as restless to get his first wand," the man commented before devoting his attention back toward selecting a proper wand. "Now, I have this one as well, but I wasn't keen on bringing it out while your brother was here."

Mr. Ollivander opened the box to reveal a beautiful wand made of a light warm wood. The handle was interlaced with endless knots etched into it. A rose gold ring divided the handle from the rest of the wand and a similar embellishment upon the pommel. She wasn't quite certain by what he meant, alluding that Lucius shouldn't have been in the room, but she took the wand nonetheless.

Warmth filled her palm and spread up her arm, the scent of cinnamon and maple syrup overwhelming her all at once, reminding her vaguely of autumn back home. The heat of the wand did not recede and it felt as if it were alive and breathing in her hand.

"I got that maple wood in some time ago, but couldn't find anyone that it suited. Maple is an American wood, but I thought pairing it with a Phoenix feather would prove to make a wonderful wand. Unfortunately, those cores are very picky, but it seems to be fond of you," he commented, giving her an appraising look as he stared at his work. "I certainly never expected it to prefer a Malfoy, though the world is full of surprises."

Turning the wand over, Rhoswen inspected the details in the handle. "Why didn't you expect it to suit a Malfoy?" she asked offhandedly.

"Well..." he trailed off, realizing what he had said.

Rhoswen brought her eyes up and peered at him with her grey irises. "Because my family affiliates with dark magics?" she filled in simply.

Garrick did not answer not acknowledge that her answer was correct. "The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb... That will be 7 galleons."

"Those are the gold ones right?" Rhoswen asked, handing him the wand back, opening the purse to which she discovered only contained gold coins.

Garrick nodded, muttering under his breath as he began manually writing a receipt, and action that Rhoswen had never witnessed in her life. There was no technology in the magical world, rather they used magic in most scenarios. "7 galleons, 11 1/2" maple wand, sturdy, with a phoenix feather core to Ms. Rhoswen Malfoy."

After counting the gold coins on the counter, Mr. Ollivander wrapped her wand up neatly and presented the box to her. She slid the purse into her pocket and took the wand, heading for the door. However, before she had the time to exit, the bell tinkled and a woman and her son opened the door adorned in just attire that was just as fine as the Malfoys, dashed with a bit of green toward their collars.

The woman was quite pretty, her dark brown hair pulled away from her face in a bun, though her eyes were sharp and cruel, her lips turned down slightly. However, her brows lifted when she noticed Rhoswen and her lips turned up slightly.

"Rhoswen? I heard you had been quite ill for some time, I am glad to see you're getting ready for school to begin," the woman greeted familiarly. Her eyes turned down to her son who had thick wavy black hair. "Sirius, aren't you going to greet her? She's been very ill for the past weeks."

"I..." she stammered looking between them. "I'm sorry. I don't remember who you are. I lost my memories." This seemed the simplest way, though Rhoswen garnered at the very least that this was Mrs. Black, Sirius's mother.

"Oh," her lips turned downward again. "How troubling... We are good friends with your family. I am Walburga Black and this is my son Sirius Black."

Sirius appeared bitter and was glaring at the floor. He paid her little heed, ignoring his mother's request to greet her.

"You two will have more time to spend together and get reacquainted once you're sorted into Slytherin. Please do tell your father I'd like to have a word with him when he's got the time," Walburga requested, allowing for Rhoswen to go out the door and in search of Lucius and Madam Malkin's.

Sirius Black as a youth... She never thought it'd be more strange. Suddenly, she was stricken with a thought. What kind of relationship had the previous Rhoswen had with the Blacks? Sirius wouldn't even look at her so she doubted it was very good. With a sigh, she shook the thoughts from her head. Once word spread that she'd lost her memory then people would understand that she was a blank slate and a completely new person.

Rhoswen wasn't wandering for long when she discovered the purple faced shop that Lucius had told her to meet up at. There was a bit of a line inside, but she discovered that Lucius was at the very front, just behind a couple of other folks. Trotting up to meet her brother, he glanced at her rather impatiently as if waiting in this line had been beneath him.

"What took you so long? You almost didn't make it in time," Lucius remarked, glancing at her wand box and then back up toward her.

"I bumped into Mrs. Black and Sirius," though the truth was most of that time had been spent talking with Mr. Ollivander instead.

"Did you?" he arched a pale brow. "Ah, that's right, Sirius is of a similar age as you. Although, I'd stay away from him. He's unruly and rude."

"Oh," Rhoswen said simply, glancing at the floor contemplatively.

"The two of your didn't get along before your incident. Not that you would recall," Lucius informed her, but simply left it there.

Finally, it was their turn after a mild wait in silence. There was a different air about Lucius in public, like he had someone to impress though no on in particular was paying him heed. Rhoswen had never had to posture in her life, but tried to keep her back straight and eyes forward, but the longer she stared the more her vision blurred. She blinked furiously a few times before resorting to wiping her eyes with her hand.

After Lucius had stepped down from the platform he scowled at her. "Why are you wiping your eyes so much?"

"Sorry my vision as just getting a bit unfocused," she murmured before stepping onto the dais where Madam Malkin, a plump witch with blonde hair and a jolly temperament began measuring her with a tape that moved on its own accord.

Lucius shook his head. "I've always told father that you need eye glasses, but he's never conceded. He always mentioned something about not wanting to cover you face..." he grumbled irritably.

"Well, it'll be a problem if I can't read the board during school. I'll always have to get there early to grab a seat closest to the front," Rhoswen realized in horror.

"Since when have you ever been interested in academics?" but after the words left his mouth he seemed to reconsider. "Let's pay for our robes and then I'll decide where we're going next."

The pair of siblings approached the counter and paid for belongings before exiting the shop, where the line only seemed to have gotten longer. A red haired girl with muggle parents brushed by then and Lucius gave them a tart glare before sweeping out into the streets. Time only filled the road more and they had to bear a hard left before Rhoswen hurried after her brother, her short legs unable to keep pace with his long strides.

Finally, they came to a shop that Rhoswen had never heard of, marked by a simple pair of glasses on a brown wooden sign. Lucius offered the door to her and they entered a glasses shop. This was not quarantined and clean looking LensCrafters, but instead another dusty shop, but at least it was more neatly arranged than Ollivanders. Rows upon rows of eye glasses were neatly arranged, the little drawers each containing various lenses and wire frames. None were fashioned of plastic. Despite how busy it was outside, it was astoundingly quiet within the spectacle store. The shopkeeper lifted his head to reveal that he was wearing some sort of head contraption with multiple magnifying lenses over his dominant eye. Said eyes was magnified 50x normal and a hazel brown eye flecked with gold and green was staring at them. Quickly, he reached up and pushed the magnifier out of his face.

"Eye glasses?"

Lucius nodded and motioned for Rhoswen to approached the strange wizard. He picked up a wooden box with eye slits and held it up to her.

"Look in this," he told her.

Rhoswen pressed her forehead against the slits in the box, unaware that the wizard was also looking in, but on the other side. She only realized when he spoke again, this time much closer than she had presumed.

"Ah yes, some early nearsightedness. Won't require a strong lense, but I do suggest she returns every year as her vision degrades," the wizard said before taking the box away and rummaging through some of his open drawers. "I only have a few frames available that would fit someone so small..." he returned with a large set of round black wire framed glasses and a rose gold frame that had a large U shape. She selected the rose gold set and watched as the wizard tinkered away.

Usually muggle glasses took an entire day. However, with magic, the wizard was able to put the according lenses in and then shape them as best to fit her small face. When placed on, Rhoswen was able to make out finer details at a distance with no issue.

"How does that look?"

"Good, much better," Rhoswen told him, cracking a smile.

"That'll be 5 galleons."

Lucius took the money out of a different coin purse before departing. "Put those away for now. Only wear them while you're at school. Don't tell father I bought those for you," he murmured, gesturing slightly to her face.

Even with the word in a high definition, she sighed and nodded, stowing the glasses safely in her pocket. "Thank you," she told him.

"It's nothing. You needed them," Lucius brushed off before straightening his posture again and leering down the road. "Let's go get the rest of your supplies before father begins wondering where we are."

Rhoswen and Lucius went to a few more shops to collect their supplies. She had to pick up a pewter cauldron, standard size 2, a set of vials (which Lucius insisted on getting the more expensive crystal set), a telescope whose price almost made her vomit, books (which she also picked up various other books that piqued her interest), and a set of brass scales. They stopped to get some ice cream before going to collect writing supplies at Scribbulus. Rhoswen went for more rose gold colored objects, selecting the bit made of rose gold and raven feather quills to go along with them. Loading up on fresh parchment, their last stop was Slug & Jiggers Apothecary to pick up potions supplies.

When exiting, Rhoswen eyed the nearby shop that had cages of owls and fruit bats hanging outside. From that distance she couldn't read the sign, but Lucius was able to read her.

"Do you want to go in there?" he asked her, almost disdainful at the thought of going inside a dirty pet shop.

"Can we?"

"Of course, Malfoys can go wherever they want," he sniffed before leading the way. Inside there was a musty smell of several animals in one location. There was a huge assortment within that outside couldn't have even alluded to. There was a glass cage of sleek black rats which were skipping over one another's tails. Puffy little creatures with a long pink thin tongue lolled around in their habitat. Several variations of toads lolled in their tanks, even a giant purple one that was slobbering over some dead flies collected at the bottom of the tank. One creature was so foul tempered that flame was shooting out of its mouth, revealing a crab ones the fire had dissipated.

"Anything pique your interest?" Lucius asked her anxiously, clearly itching to get out of there. Rhoswen paused in front of a silver feline with black stripes and large oversized ears. The creature was incredibly fluffy and large compared to other cats that she'd seen in the past. Grey eyes regarded Rhoswen with keen intelligence its thin tail, only plumed at the end with plush fur, flickered curiously.

"This one," she gestured to the caged feline.

"That looks like a kneazle not a cat," Lucius observed.

"You would be correct. That is a young adult kneazle," the shop keep appeared behind them.

"Do you think I'd be able to bring it to Hogwarts? It's cat... like..."

Lucius was still dubious about the cat, but he frowned. "I... Father will work something out, I'm sure. Students have brought part kneazles to the school, I don't see why not a full."

"Then you'd like to take this one?" the keep asked.

"Yes..." Lucius drawled.

The kneazle set them back 20 galleons, more than twice that of a regular cat. However, money was little issue and the attitude toward the creature was more in part to how dangerous they could be.

However, the feline was complacent in its cage as Rhoswen carried it in both of her arms as they made way back toward the Floo fireplaces.

She cast a glance back, wondering who she might make friends with when she began school in a few weeks.


	4. Chapter 3: The Sorting

In the few weeks that Rhoswen had leading up to school she spent her time in the Malfoy library, going through her assigned books, making notes and dog earing pages. Little had she known that there was quite a bit more science to magic than she had originally assumed, especially in Transfiguration. She had practiced spells during the summer, already getting the simple spells required to learn as a first year out of the way. Perhaps the reminder of "_it's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa_" in Hermione's voice helped her quickly lock down the Levitation Charm. However, there were various other resources in the Malfoy library that she drew upon. Many were poison making and dark spells, but she did manage to find books on charms and healing spells, which she spent a great deal of time on. Numerous times she tried working on her Patronus, but she couldn't seem to find a strong enough memory that would allow her to produce the spell at all.

During this time, she garnered that the old Rhoswen was very unlike herself. Due to growing up in a lofty and rich household, Rhoswen had never had to lift her own finger to do anything. She was foul tempered, indulgent, and never had any interest in studies. With no true aspirations, Rhoswen had originally planned on finishing school by the skin of her teeth and then marrying into another pureblood family where money would be no object. The idea of being so complacent sickened her to her core. She also knew why the house-elves were terrified of her and the paintings had said nasty things. The old Rhoswen had been a terror.

Additionally, it was difficult for her to ignore the blatant classism and blood purity comments that were commonplace in the household. Only when it was meal time was she expected to rejoin her family, though most often she would remain silent and only speak when spoken to. Abraxas didn't seem to think much of this and he was actually excited to see how studious she had become, claiming once that 'Losing your memory might have been a good thing'. But as Rhoswen had gazed up at him, she thought of how much further he couldn't have been from the truth. He had no inkling that his new daughter would not conform to his ideals.

Thus, when the time finally rose for them to get packed for Hogwarts, Rhoswen was so excited that she barely slept the night before, having carefully packed her chest in practically psychotic manner. Now, the Kelsy within her was steeling herself to be in a class filled with children. She had only been 19 when she was struck by the bus, but that felt like an eternity older than 11. Yet, being from the future and also American, she'd come to understand that the U.K. was quite unlike her old home. Even so, children would be children and she had a feeling that she wouldn't make many friends due to her mature mentality. Perhaps it was best that way, so she wouldn't alter the timelines too much. All she would need to do it keep her head down and devote her time to her studies.

King's Cross Station was overflowing with muggles arriving for work on the train. Her father and brother glanced around disdainfully at their inferior counterparts, though Rhoswen didn't mind them much. Rowan, her kneazle, yawned loudly in his cage before glancing up at her with his intelligent sky blue eyes. He'd been confined to her bedroom after attacking Abraxas. From what Rhoswen had read, kneazle could sense bad people and were not kind to them. Rowan also had similar disdain toward her brother, but not in the same matter of vehemence as her father. In fact, Abraxas had been incredibly cross that Lucius had bought the kneazle in the first place. An owl would have been much better suited or even a normal cat, but a kneazle was bound to cause messes and be difficult to take care of. He gave Rhoswen strict rules on making certain her room was secure when he had visitors over, not wanting Rowan to attack any of them.

_Perhaps if you weren't all bad people, Rowan would have no qualms with you,_ she had thought on numerous occasions. But either way, Rowan went where she went in the mansion, which for the most part was just her room and the library. Come time for meals, she put him back in her room, despite the enormous feline giving her moody looks.

They approached the divider between platforms 9 and 10, Abraxas turning to glance between them. She had already been briefed on what to do, though she'd been able to garner more than enough information from _Hogwarts, A History _so that her knowledge didn't seem suspicious. The Malfoys passed through the barrier to be greeted by the wonderfully painted and conditioned Hogwarts Express.

Rhoswen recalled the train up to Boston, but it didn't even compare in beauty to the steam engine in front of her. Painted in black and crimson, steam billowed from the front, wafting back toward where students and parents milled around. A low whistle indicated the train would be leaving soon and for students to board as soon as possible. A conductor shouted some distance down the track, "All aboard!"

"Now Lucius you wanted a copy of _Seeker Weekly_ to be sent to you every week and Rhoswen-"

"_The Daily Prophet _and _Transfiguration Today,_" she filled in with a small smile.

"My little scholar," he murmured before kissing the top of her head and clapping Lucius formally on the shoulder. "Hurry now, get on the train before it leaves… But allow me to help." Abraxas cast a simple levitation spell on their trunks so that they could be carried with ease. Rhoswen slid her satchel bag over her head and took the floating chest in one hand and the floating cage for Rowan in another. "Write me with updates on your grades or I'll acquire them myself," he called after his children as they stepped onto the train.

"Do you want to sit with me and meet some of the other Slytherins?" Lucius asked her as they began looking for a place to sit. He was heading in the direction of an open seat carriage rather than a smaller private caboose.

"I think I'll take a compartment and try to meet some people my own age," Rhoswen told him.

"You're always welcome to move if you get stuck with some unsavory types. I'll be in the third carriage," Lucius informed her, but seemed a bit happy that his little sister wouldn't be dogging his heels. Rhoswen suspected that the old Rhoswen had followed him around like a forlorn puppy and he was glad to see that she was now being independent.

Parting ways with her brother she took a right and found the first empty compartment to sit in. She placed the chest up onto the rack and then opened Rowan's cage to let him out. Her next move was to retrieve the glasses she had been so keen to wear for the past few weeks and put them on her face. Immediately, the details outside the train snapped into clarity. No more squinting or straining her eyes. The moment she sat down, Rowan clambered halfway onto her lap and began purring loudly as she scratched subconsciously behind his oversized ears. He'd only gotten larger over the weeks and she had a feeling he wasn't done growing yet. At this point he was nearly the size of a medium dog, though considerably lighter and more lean.

"Are these seats taken?" the door slid open and a messy haired boy stood there, robes askew and books nearly falling from under his arm. He was dragging his chest behind him with great difficulty and his pale cheeks were splotchy and red.

"No, you can sit here if you'd like," Rhoswen offered, glancing at Rowan who had barely stirred to regard the boy.

"Thanks, all the others are full now," he murmured, hefting his trunk onto the wrack and collapsing in the seat across from her. He turned his hand through his brown curls, trying to get them out of his face. "My name is Thomas Maestro, you're a first year too?"

"Yes, Rhoswen Malfoy," she returned.

He must have been from a wizarding family because he stiffened immediately and pulled at the collar of his button down. "Oh, really?"

"Don't look too excited," she retorted sarcastically. "You can just call me Rose."

"Right… Rose," he muttered, still disconcerted that he had wound up in a compartment with a Malfoy.

"What house are you hoping to be sorted into?" she changed the subject, trying to make light conversation with Thomas. Perhaps if she distracted him from what family she hailed from, he might actually treat her like a normal person.

"Oh, I don't know really. I mean, Gryffindor would be a good fit, but I'm afraid I might turn out to be a Hufflepuff," his eyes came back to meet her for a moment and paused on the book sitting next to her. "What's that there? That wasn't on our list was it?"

"This?" she lifted up a violet book with gold detailings. "No, it's not on the list, just a bit of recreational reading."

Thomas squinted at the title. "You're recreationally reading _Protection Charm Your Mind: A Practical Guide to Counter Legilimensy?_" he asked incredulously.

"Why not? It's quite useful," she shrugged, having picked up the book with the fear that someone would get into her mind and discover all the knowledge she had of the future. It was best to begin training in the art of Occlumency before anyone had the slightest idea she had such a wealth of knowledge.

"That's way beyond our year," Thomas said doubtfully.

"Doesn't mean I can't read it," she replied, setting the book back down and resuming her session of pets with Rowan.

"Is there any more room in here for two?" a feminine voice asked, opening the glass to the compartment once again. A girl with dark auburn hair and bright green eyes stood in the frame, her hair flaming behind her as she sheepishly looked for a spot. Behind her was a pale boy with lanky and greasy black hair that fell to his shoulders, his nose was long and hooked and he remained quiet.

"Plenty," Rhoswen informed them.

"All the other carriages were full of older students. Are you also first years?" she asked, getting herself situated.

Rhoswen wondered if she had accidentally taken a turn into the Slytherin carriage. From the looks of her bell bottom corduroy overalls and flowered blouse beneath it, she was muggleborn and might have been met with some darker glances from pureblooded peers. The boy behind her wore all black robes, which made her wonder how the two of them had gotten paired up in the first place. Though her ponderings didn't have to wait long as they sat down, the boy sitting beside Rhoswen and the girl next to Thomas.

"My name is Lily Evans and my friend is Severus Snape," she greeted with a broad and friendly smile.

Rhoswen's heart skipped a beat as she looked between them. Again, marred by the movies, she had recognized either one of them at this age. Lily's hair was a more vibrant ruby auburn than copper red, her eyes striking like those of a feline. Severus, on the other hand, she should have recognized, but he was so young. Thin, with sallow and paltry skin, and penetrating eyes that resembled tunnels, she could see why Lily had never looked at Severus the way he'd wanted.

"Thomas Maestro," her companion greeted.

"Uh, Rhoswen Malfoy," she said simply, but neither of them really seemed familiar with her name, which was a relief.

"What kind of cat is that there?" Lily asked inquisitively, staring over at Rowan with round eyes.

"It's a Kneazle, Lily," Severus told her, watching as the feline's tail flickered beside him. "I'm surprised you were allowed to take one. They're extremely territorial and can sense bad wizards. Often they'll attack wizards they don't like."

"Oh that's amazing. I wish I'd brought one too, he?- He's really lovely," she gushed, questioning the gender of the kneazle to be answered with a nod from Rhoswen.

"He's very well mannered, you can pet him if you want," Rhoswen offered.

Lily had only just come over to pet Rowan when a pair of boys stopped in front of their compartment. Immediately, Rhoswen recognized Sirius as one of them, and didn't take too much longer to decide that the boy with messy black hair and round wire framed glasses was James Potter. Sirius's eyes lit up when he spotted her, but not in a friendly manner.

"Oh Malfoy, looks like you're making friends, aren't you? I would have expected you to be in the Pureblood Only carriage with your brother," Sirius sneered, no longer the boy glaring at the floor like he had been at Ollivanders.

"I didn't want to sit in there," Rhoswen grumbled, trying not to let a peevish 11 year old boy get under her skin. Drawing in a low breath and composed herself and set her grey eyes back on Sirius.

"Glasses too? Just because you 'lost your memory' it doesn't make up for your attitude in the past," Sirius warned her with reproachful glare.

_I did do something. _"Whatever I did in the past, I'm sorry. I'm trying to turn over a new leaf."

"Won't matter too much. Once you're sorted into Slytherin you'll slip right back into your old habits. Second chances really don't exist… And I doubt you really lost your memory," he then glanced over at James, deciding that he was bored with this topic and would rather move forward. "But what about the rest of you? Where are you hoping to be sorted?"

Rhoswen settled back into her seat and turned her head to the window, ignoring what was going on around her. Perhaps she had been naive to hope that she could start fresh as a girl who'd made friends and enemies up until she perished at 11 and Kelsy replaced her. Rowan kneaded his paws into her leg. Outside the sun was shining gleefully onto the English countryside consisting of rolling verdant hills. Again, Rhoswen took a deep breath and set aside the petty grievances of the children around her, but there was still a lump in her stomach. What had old Rhoswen done to make Sirius hate her so much?

_Well her attitude probably didn't help at all… and she was cruel, _she thought glumly.

"'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart!' Like my dad. Got a problem with that?" James was speaking, the latter end of the conversation that Rhoswen had managed to pick up. She turned her head, noticing that Thomas had gone silent and that James and Severus were glaring at each other.

"No. If you'd rather be brawny instead of brainy -" Severus retorted.

Sirius's lip curled into a sneer. "And where are you hoping to go, seeing that you're neither?"

"Get out," Rhoswen declared in a clear voice, a ringing clarity and calmness that hinted the fury underlying beneath her tone.

Sirius and James blinked at her apprehensively before smirks curled on their faces and they rounded on her pompously. "Why? We're just having a chat."

"Go take your childish antics elsewhere," Lily said, standing beside Rhoswen's declaration.

"Fine, have fun on the rest of your trainride losers," James huffed before he and Sirius departed from the compartment. Rhoswen stood up, glancing down the corridor that they'd vanished down and slammed the door shut, struggling to pull the crimson curtain in front of it.

A peel of silence covered the room as the rings clattered as she finally secured the curtain and flopped back down into her seat, her cheeks and ears burning furiously from how vexed she had just become.

"You lost your memory?" Thomas broke the silence, looking over at Rhoswen with a much softer expression.

Rhoswen only managed a small nod, clasping her hands together as she continued to collect herself.

"How?" Lily inquired gently.

"I… I must have picked up some cursed artefact from what everyone is telling me. It should have killed me. They thought it was going to kill me. But I woke up… and there was nothing there. I didn't know who I was, where I was, that magic existed… Let alone what I might have done in the past or people I may have hurt, so I'm not entirely surprised that Sirius hates me. But he shouldn't be taking his grievances with me out on any of you," her eyes trailed over to Severus, who had been the primary focus of their torment. It wouldn't end, she knew it wouldn't.

"Well you seem like a better person than you were in the past," Thomas said, as if it were any consolation.

"Thomas you barely know me," Rhoswen breathed, a slight laugh escaping her lips.

"Tommy is fine. It's what my mum calls me. Anyways, that doesn't give him the right to be so rude. Uhg, I hope I don't get sorted into Gryffindor now if they're going to be there," Tommy frowned, scoffing at the idea of Gryffindor.

"He can't hold it against you forever," Lily agreed. "Eventually he'll realize you aren't the person you once were."

"We'll see," she grumbled, not as positive as any of them. Sirius hadn't seen Snape for years and he still hated him when they reunited in Grimmauld Place. "What's everyone looking forward to this year?" she changed the subject, hoping to get the conversation moving away from her.

"I'm really excited for all of the classes," Lily admitted, beaming.

"Me too… well maybe not History of Magic. I heard the professor is really really boring," Tommy added before looking over at Severus.

"Potions… anything with spellwork," he shrugged.

"Did you know any spells?" Tommy asked him enthusiastically.

"A few…" Severus murmured.

"Sev, give yourself some credit," Lily sighed before looking over at them. "Sev knows a lot of spells. Especially curses, hexes, and jinxes. I bet he knows more than a lot of older students."

A touch of pink crept on Severus's cheeks and he gave a simple shrug. "Malfoy seems studious. She probably knows just as many spells."

"Why, you think I'm studious because I have big eye glasses?" Rhoswen prompted as if she were offended.

"No… The book you've got beside you. That's an advanced book," he motioned to the book that Tommy and her had been talking about before their arrival.

"I know some spells, though not too many hexes or jinxes. Charms, potions, mostly in regards to healing and helping growing plants. I really looked into what it would take to be a healer," Rhoswen gushed, unable to contain her excitement and pride from what she had worked diligently on the past few weeks. Of course, she'd learned a few defensive spells, but most dealt with fire seeing that her wand rather liked fire.

"You already know what you want to do when you grow up?" Tommy sounded amazed by this idea.

"Somewhat, but I won't truly know until we begin classes. I might find out I'm terrible at Herbology or something like that," she mused, a soft rap on the glass door making her stiffen.

A muffled voice could be heard on the other side of the door. "Anything off the trolley?"

Lily opened the curtain to reveal a plump witch in plum pushing a cart filled with treats. Immediately, Rhoswen recognized a handful, though they looked much more appetizing than the mass produced candies that weren't magical from Kelsy's world.

"Does anyone want anything?" Lily asked.

"Everyone get what you want, I'll pay," Rhoswen offered, fishing the coin purse from her satchel which was filled with galleons. For once in her life, money was no object, but it came at the price of having a family of dark wizards. Money or morals?

"Wow really?" Tommy gasped, having been settled into his seat, casting woeful glances at the candy he didn't have money for.

"Yeah, I get an allowance and there won't really be anything to spend it on at school. We can't go to Hogsmeade until our 3rd year anyways," Rhoswen told him.

Everyone picked what they wanted off the trolley. Rhoswen defaulted for a pumpkin pasty, a licorice wand, and some ice mice, which she wondered were real mice. Either way, she found herself socializing more than she had anticipated on her trip to Hogwarts and had the nagging feeling that her brother wouldn't be pleased by one of her new friends. One step away from the Malfoy family. One step among many that might eventually cause a rift between them and her. She could only hope that she wasn't sorted into Gryffindor.

XXX break

Hours passed before the Hogwarts Express began losing speed and came to a halt in Hogsmeade Station. Night had enveloped them and much like her first night in that world, Rhoswen was amazed to gaze up at the dark sky dotted by thousands of stars. With her head craned up, she paid little heed where everyone was going. Her attention was arrested by a deep booming voice calling, "First years! First years, this way!"

Copying what her father had done, Rhoswen levitated her chest and the cage for Rowan, but was promptly told to leave it in a pile with the rest of the first years' belongings. Setting it aside she followed the crowd, one among many lemmings, toward a towering figure holding up an oil lantern. Before her stood Rubeus Hagrid. The movies did him no glory for his true size and girth and she didn't think that just because she was 11.

Hagrid was at least three men wide and two tall, towering over all of them like a mountain before pebbles. His beard was thick and bushy, his eyes barely twinkling from beneath the coarse hair. "This way then, 2 to a boat," he directed, guiding them down to a boat dock where enchanted boats were waiting for them.

Rhoswen waited her turn, getting paired up with an unfamiliar boy, having lost track of those she rode the train with. Neither of them spoke as the boat began moving on its own accord. The surface of the lake rippled as they moved, nearly a perfect mirror of the crescent moon and its stars. Looming in front of them was Hogwarts, crested on a rocky outcrop and lit against the sky in its medieval glory. Several spires twisted into the sky and it seemed as if every window had a light in it. Her heart began pounding in her chest as they approached, reaching a climax as they passed beneath a viney grove in the rocks, beneath the cliffs where Hogwarts sat.

For a moment, Rhoswen was overcome with emotions and elation. Part of her had feared that this was all a dream, though each breath and blink felt utterly real. Realizing that she was finally going to Hogwarts had somehow completed her, causing her chest to buzz warmly and in a similar manner to how her wand kept warm at all times.

_It's really happening. I'm going to Hogwarts, _she thought, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill out. She drew a deep breath and began nodding, trying to pump herself up for her future endeavors. She was going to work as hard as she could to be the best witch in the school. Why would she squander this opportunity she had been given? No bullies would stand in her way. She'd keep her head down and avoid fights if she could help it.

The first years collected on the dock before Hagrid rejoined them and gestured toward a stone staircase. He led them up through twisting halls which Rhoswen tried hard to commit to memory. She'd always had a rather keen sense of direction, but the stone halls looked all the same and she was having difficulty keeping up as small murmurs resounded around them. Students were nervous about how they would be sorted into their houses. It was a closely guarded secret and while Rhoswen was aware it was just a hat, some of the students though there would be some sort of trial.

"My brother told me we have to know all the ingredients to a potion of the professors' choice. Depending on how many you get right or wrong depends where you get sorted," one girl was saying, biting nervously at her nails.

"I heard that you had to fight a dark creature like doxies."

Eventually they reached the Great Hall, whose large ornate doors were shut in front of them. Hagrid disappeared inside and the children collected, murmuring about other ideas they had for what the sorting might be. Rhoswen's eyes focused on the crack of the door, nothing else on her mind aside from not being sorted into Gryffindor. The door opened again and a tall, thin witch swept in front of them, drawing utter silence.

She was dressed in vibrant emerald velvet robes and a tall pointed hat. Her nose was pointed and a set of spectacles sat on her nose. A brown bun was kept low at the base of her neck and she had a no-nonsense expression plastered on her face.

"The start of term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting," before another word the witch went back inside the Great Hall, letting them all mull around a bit longer.

_Was that McGonagall?_ She wondered. McGonagall was quite a deal younger than she would have expected, but then again it was some twenty odd years before Harry Potter's time and she hadn't aged that far yet. More murmuring began, but was quickly silenced when the doors swung open and the Great Hall was revealed.

Four tables were arranged with their according banners hanging from the ceiling above. Hundreds of candles floated above them, the ceiling charmed to reflect the beautiful evening sky. Rhoswen's legs were churning before she could stop herself, unaware that she was the first to step out and take the lead. The other students followed behind her, marveling at the enormity of the hall and also the minute details from the stained glass windows to the cathedral arches. They pooled at the foot of the professors' table which was lifted up on a dais and higher than the house tables. One platform down there was a stool with a raggedy old leather hat sitting on it. Perhaps at one point it was pointed, but now it slumped over in mild defeat.

Before a word could be uttered, the hat straightened and burst into song. The hat started about the history of the four houses and how the founders came together to form the school to teach magick. He swiftly moved into how bold, brave, and noble Gryffindor was before talking about how there were no truer or loyal friends than a Hufflepuff (which Rhoswen thought was kind of lame compared to the other houses). His voice reached peak as he continued about how clever and intelligent Ravenclaws were before boasting about Slytherin pride and cunning. His voice tapered down to a quavering tremolo before he bowed, echoed by the roaring clapping and cheering of the older students behind them.

Professor McGonagall stepped up, her height and shadow causing many students to recede as she held a long roll of parchment and picked up the Sorting Hat by his tip. "Kirsten Appletree," she called, a rather timid looking girl with shoulder length brown hair mousing her way up to the front.

McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat upon her head and after a few quiet moments he declared, "Hufflepuff!"

A few more students were called up before McGonagall beckoned for, "Sirius Black."

A low murmur spread through some of the tables behind them, though Rhoswen could vaguely recall why. Sirius sauntered his way up to the stool confidently and took his seat, leveling his eyes on the crowd before turning it down to glare at Rhoswen.

"Gryffindor!" The Gryffindor table broke out into applause for the first student who had been sorted into their house. Soft mutterings from Slytherin were following and when Rhoswen glanced back she knew why. A girl with wild black curls and dark eyes stood out to her immediately: Bellatrix Lestrange... No, she would be Black right now, wouldn't she? A shiver trailed down her spine as if an icy vail have been dragged down it. Bellatrix caught her looking and cracked a broad smile.

_She thinks I'm going to be in Slytherin..._

"Lily Evans," Lily trotted up to the hat and sat down, clutching the edges of the seat nervously, though her expression was hard and determined.

"Better be... Gryffindor!"

Even though Rhoswen knew that Lily was going to be Gryffindor, it didn't make it any easier. She had sort of hoped she would have been placed elsewhere so they could have had all their classes together. A few more names and people went by before another familiar name was called.

"Remus Lupin."

The boy beside her, the one she had ridden the boat in with, moved for the chair. He had sandy hair and a kind, smooth face aside from a scar on his cheek. The hat took considerably longer before choosing where to sort him, though Rhoswen didn't know why the stupid hat wouldn't just get on with it. Finally, "Gryffindor!", came out from the hat's stitched mouth.

The middle of the alphabet seemed to fly by until McGonagall summoned Thomas Maestro. Tommy threw Rhoswen a nervous smile and then trotted up to the stool, throwing himself up without paying much attention. Rhoswen groaned immediately as he slipped from his chair and fell unceremoniously onto the floor with a thud. Immediately, the Slytherin table roared with laughter at his blunder, the other tables garnering a few soft chuckles.

_Oh, Tommy_... Rhoswen thought desperately as he tried to recover as if nothing happened. He gave McGonagall a sheepish grin and then sat on the stool carefully.

Fortunately, the hat spared him further embarrassment by being rather speedy in his decision. "Ravenclaw!"

Rhoswen found herself clapping very loudly, even letting out a hoot. Ravenclaw was certainly the best scenario for Tommy, given that he hadn't wanted Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. He mosied down and kept his head turned away from Slytherin who were still sniggering as he passed.

"Rhoswen Malfoy," McGonagall called, looking among the students and picking her out easily due to her bone white hair.

Rhoswen swallowed hard and walked toward the stood, her ears blocked by the sound of her heart pounding like ocean waves against cliffs. The hat was plopped onto her head and she felt him moving, mulling around. Her eyes scanned the crowd, to which the Slytherin table was increasingly curious, especially her brother who was frowning. Malfoys didn't take this long to be sorted.

_'But you're not a Malfoy are you?'_ the hat asked her.

_I... No_, she admitted, wondering just what the hat saw inside her head.

_'I see who you were and how you got here. Very curious... but fret not. Neither Gryffindor or Slytherin are a very good fit for you,'_ he told her before opening his mouth. "Ravenclaw!"

Relief flooded her as McGonagall lifted the hat from her head, but no one else seemed as happy as she was to be sorted into Ravenclaw. In fact, her fellow housemates stared at her openly, astounded that a Malfoy had weaseled their way into a house other than Slytherin. She took her seat next to Tommy who gave her an excited pat on the back, but he seemed like the only one who was keen to be in her house.

The rest of the names flew by; Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, Severus Snape... Before long all the first years had been sorted into their seats and McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and her roll of parchment before the headmaster stood up.

Dumbledore was a kind looking, older gentleman. His hair was grey, not white, and his beard shorter and thicker than she recalled. His face was lined with less wrinkles, but his jolly blue eyes twinkled from behind his half-moon spectacles nonetheless.

"Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you." he announced before taking his seat, the wry smiles of the professors around him making Rhoswen lighten up as well.

The empty tables in front of them filled with a feast that you couldn't even compare Thanksgiving to. While the food had been good at Malfoy Manor, it had been too rich for Rhoswen's preference. However, as her as scanned the table to see an orange glazed duck, roasted chicken, prime rib, trenches filled with garlic mashed potatoes, corn on the cob, an ensemble of roasted root vegetables, green beans with sliced almonds, she couldn't help but crack a smile and grab a sticky honey glazed bun.

Chatter filled the Great Hall and students spoke among each other. Rhoswen only occupied herself with stuffing her mouth full of food so she wasn't obligated to begin a conversation. Not that she needed to, Tommy was blabbering loud enough for the two of them.

"Yeah," he said between mouthfuls, which Rhoswen found to be very unattractive. "Lost 'er memory. Probably why the Sorting Hat didn't put her in Slytherin."

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, Tommy," Rhoswen scowled like she was his mother.

Tommy glanced at her and washed down the food in his mouth with some pumpkin juice. "I was just telling them why you weren't in Slytherin. I mean, I think it's unheard of that Malfoys are in any other house."

"Well, I didn't really want everyone to know I'd lost my memory this summer," she told him in a hushed voice.

"Oh... well a bit late for that now," he said apologetically.

"It's fine..." she grumbled, pushing her hair back. As of late, the length of it had been bothering her. She'd had longish hair as Kelsy, but never to her waist. According to Lucius, long hair was more feminine and graceful, but all Rhoswen thought it was nothing more than a big mess. She had half a mind to cut it off, but knew that she'd have hell to face if her father found out she'd cut off her previous locks.

_Maybe I'll create a hair growing spell so I can have it short as schoo_l, she thought as dessert appeared on the table. Her staring brought her round to the adjacent Slytherin table and immediately the heat of her brother's gaze fell upon her. She couldn't fathom why he would be mad that she hadn't gotten into Slytherin. Was that truly her fault? She tried to go back to eating her dinner, but she couldn't shake the feeling that people were watching her.

Once the feast came to a close, Dumbledore took the podium again to address the students a final time that evening. "Welcome to Hogwarts or welcome back. For all new students, please be aware that the Forbidden Forest is just as its name suggests, forbidden for any students to traverse unless they'd like to meet an unfortunate end. I need remind you on the part of the Hogwarts Caretaker, Filch, that running or casting spells in the hallways is not allowed. Now... Will Prefects please take control of their houses?"

Prefects began standing up, including her brother over at the Slytherin table, a sleek green badge with a silver 'P' printed upon it. The Ravenclaw Prefect was beckoning for the first years to follow, to which Rhoswen was quite pleased to get away from her brother's glowering and to the back of the group. They were filtering out of the hallway when someone grabbed the back of her robes and dragged her away from the group, that barely noticed that she had departed. Being so small, Rhoswen wasn't able to round on her captor, flailing wildly as she tried to grab her wand.

They stopped by a broom closet in the hallway and when she turned to see who it was, Bellatrix was standing above her, dark ruby lips curling up. "Hello my darling, I was so hoping to see you. I haven't gotten to see you since you fell ill. Did you miss me?" she simpered, sending creepy crawlies down Rhoswen's back.

"I don't remember you," Rhoswen stammered, unable to keep herself from shivering at Bellatrix's closeness.

"Oh, tut tut, what a shame. We used to have such fun you know," Bellatrix tapped the bottom of Rhoswen's chin, forcing her eyes up. "I was hoping we'd have more time together in our Common Room, but..." she trailed off.

"Bellatrix can't you see you're scaring her?" another female voice snapped irritably. A fair teenager with blonde hair strutted over, also donning Slytherin robes. "No doubt Walburga told you that she's lost her memories?"

Bellatrix withdrew her finger and stepped back. "She did... but I was hoping I could jog her memory."

"The girl is lucky to be alive," the blonde commented before turning her hard eyes to Rhoswen. "This isn't going to be easy for you..."

"What isn't?" Rhoswen asked quickly, her nerves mounting.

But the girl didn't have to say much more as her brother whirled from around the corner. Lucius moved like a silver and green dervish toward her and without a moment of consideration he grabbed Rhoswen by the front of her robes and pushed her hard against the wall, knocking her glasses from her face. "Wait until father hears about this Rhoswen! He's going to think that I had something to do with this," he hissed through clenched teeth. His grip was so terribly strong that he was nearly raising her off the floor. Bellatrix danced back, a haughty and malicious smile curling up her lips. "What kind of Malfoy are you? Not getting sorted into Slytherin? Perhaps you shouldn't have woken up! At least you wouldn't have embarrassed our family."

His words cut through to her heart like a frigid dagger. All these weeks passed Rhoswen had begun to think that Lucius wasn't as bad as he had been portrayed. He had always looked after her, even used his own saved allowance to buy her glasses when their father wouldn't. And yet, here he was caring more about their image than her feelings. His aggression was unwarranted and it hurt more than any slap in the face. For once, Rhoswen had believed she had an older brother she'd always wanted, but as his lips curled back at her in a snarl, she knew that it was a godsend that she hadn't been sorted into Slytherin with them.

Lucius dropped her and took a step back, Bellatrix chortling as Rhoswen slid to the floor. "I heard you sat with a mudblood on the train too," Lucius spat. "I'll spare father that one for now as long as you stay away from her... and that buffoon who fell over during the Sorting."

He swept away with Bellatrix trailing after him. A sickening crunch was followed by a delighted, "Oopsie," from her and she continued on her way.

Only one figure remained. "Rose... Here..." the girl helped her to her feet and picked up the broken glasses on the floor. The lenses had been cracked, but the frame was salvageable due to being wire. "You probably don't remember me, but I'm Narcissa Black. I'll try to temper your brother, but... try not to cross paths with him," she paused, considering. "Do you know the way to your common room?"

Rhoswen shook her head, glaring down at the stone. Her eyes burned along with her ears and face. She shouldn't have been upset as she was, why would she expect anything different from a supremacist like her brother?

_I'll show him. I'll be the best witch in the school. I don't care what anyone thinks._

"I think I know most of the way there," Narcissa told her, offering to lead the way.

Rhoswen wiped her eyes furiously to keep any tears from leaking out, but Narcissa didn't seem to take any heed. They headed further into the castle, up several flights of stairs, and stopped at the entrance to a tower with a statue.

"Remember what I said," Narcissa said before turning and leaving.

Rhoswen eyed the statue, uncertain of how to get inside. She knew Gryffindor had a secret password that they had to ask the fat lady. However, there was only a statue. When Narcissa had vanished, the statue turned its head and asked her, "The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"

Rhoswen stared at the blank eyes of the statue and contemplated deeply. The more you take, the more you leave behind? It couldn't be an object... unless it was magical. Perhaps... "Footsteps?"

The statue turned her head back and the entrance to the tower swung open. She was too distracted by what had just happened in the hallways to worry about the tower asking riddles for entrance. Ravenclaw Tower was open and lofty, being a wide, circular room with high arches and many tall windows where blue and bronze silks were hung. The dome of the tower was painted a midnight blue and covered in stars, reflected by the carpet that was styled in the same manner. There were various furnishings like tables, chairs, and various bookcases.

She noticed a few students heading up to the dormitories which were past a tall, marble statue of the house founder, Rowena Ravenclaw. Some upperclassmen were still milling around, but like many other students Rhoswen was quite done with today's endeavors. Her belly burned with a silent fury, the determination to prove her purist brother wrong. She was going to excell at classes and she was going to make friends with anyone that would have her, muggleborn or not.

Rhoswen found the dorm room with her name, along with a few other girls, on the door. She entered to find that the other had already gotten in their pajamas and were chatting quietly among themselves. They grew hushed when she entered, not bothering to ask why her face was all red, where she had been, or why the glasses in her hand were broken.

Rowan lifted his head and glanced over at her curiously, immediately noticing the change in attitude. Regardless of her kneazle, she opened her chest and pulled out the sharp letter opener she had among her belongings. No one had bothered to greet her, but she had no doubt they were watching her as she stood in front of the floor length mirror and began hacking at her long luscious locks of ivory hair.

Finally, someone spoke up. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Rhoswen rounded to see a pale freckled girl with very curly red hair staring at her, horrified. "Cutting my hair," she told her plainly, having hacked half of it off by now, though she was having a bit of difficulty due to the letter opener not being meant for that.

"But, why?"

"Because I hate it. Just like my family," Rhoswen told her crisply, continuing to hack at her mangled hair.

"She's mad," she heard the girl mutter.

"Here," a girl with warm mocha skin and wavy, shoulder length dark hair had come over with some scissors. "Need some help? You're cutting it all uneven."

"Uh... sure," Rhoswen let the girl help, staring at her glasses. She knew a spell to fix them, but it still upset her that Lucius would have knocked them off. "Oculus reparo," she murmured, tapping her wand to the lenses, repairing the smashed glass.

"You're Malfoy, right?" the girl evening her hair out asked.

"Rose is fine," she muttered.

"Wylla Zabini. Trust me, I know how harsh family can be sometimes. Mine aren't the most friendly of people either," Wylla told her.

"I doubt it," Rhoswen grumbled.

"There, all set," Wylla stepped back and admired her handywork.

Hair still plastered to her black robes, her hair had been shorn from waist length to against the nape of her neck. The cut wasn't perfect, but Rhoswen found that it made her look a little older. Before she'd resembled a creepy porcelain doll. Now, her hair flared out with a bit of spunk. She parted it heavily to one side and tucked the thinner side behind her ear.

"Wanna do some earrings too? I've brought some extra," Wylla grinned, digging through her chest and producing a piece of parchment that had several small and various studs on them.

Rhoswen grinned in spite of herself. "Why not? I know some healing spells too. How about a whole bunch, that'd really upset my family."

* * *

_Wow, I can't believe how much interest there has been in my story thus far. Thank you everyone for reading up until this point and an extra shout out to all of you that favorited and followed my story. I've got a lot of ideas right now, so I should be continuing to publish consistently._

_Please drop some reviews to let me know how I'm doing._

_Thank you again!_

_\- Bitmad_


	5. Chapter 4: First Day

_Sorry for the delay everyone. Weekends are incredibly busy for me and things picked up at work. I'm astounded by the amount of favorites and follows and would like to thank all of you. You really are what pushes me to continue and I really appreciate you all.**  
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_DragonDame - Thank you for your review and I wish I could have gotten updates out faster! I can't wait to grow the story and our cast of characters. We will eventually explore more of Kelsy and what happened to bring her there._

_I hope you all enjoy the following chapter!_

* * *

The sun glinted in brilliantly on a new day through the tower windows and into their room. Rhoswen's hair fluffed up all around her face and Rowan let out a low mew as she stirred, shifting his spot where he was stretched out fully, basking in some of the light that sliced through the curtains.

The first day of classes and the first day to begin proving that she wasn't just a Malfoy was upon her. She hurried around and prepared her bag for her three classes that day, beginning with History of Magic and then Transfiguration. Two of the classes she was ecstatic to begin. Professor McGonagall, despite being the Head of Gryffindor, had always been one of her favorite professors. To get to learn from a witch filled with a treasure trove of knowledge gave her the jitters.

Wylla and Rhoswen found Tommy lurking around in the tower when they headed down from the dormitories. He gave a bashful smile and scratched the back of his head. "I was wondering if you'd gone to breakfast yet..." he said, but it didn't take Rhoswen long to deduce that other Ravenclaws were still embarrassed by the tumble Tommy had taken on the stool to get sorted.

"Caught us just in time," Wylla grinned before sticking out her hand. "Wylla Zabini."

Tommy took her hand and shook it subconsciously. "Thomas Maestro... but we should really be off. We don't want to be late for our first class today," he glanced down at his watch. "Rose, did you do something with your hair?"

"Cut off more than a foot of it," she told him.

"Huh, I thought it did look different," Tommy said absentmindedly. "Anyways, let's get a move on," he tapped the face of his watch once and began leading the way out of the Ravenclaw Tower.

Wylla snuck a curious glance at Rose... no, questioning. How had Tommy ended up in Ravenclaw? He certainly wasn't very perceptive. There's got to be some brain hiding in there or the hat wouldn't have sorted him into Ravenclaw, would it?

Students were milling around Hogwarts, some with food in their hands, others simply chatting in the halls. Their little trio of Ravenclaw first years wasn't really noticed and they made it to the Great Hall to get food without being stopped. An owl fluttered overhead and dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet and an envelope that was a brilliant crimson.

"Oh no," Tommy groaned, looking at the letter that sat in front of Rose. "You've got a Howler."

"What?" she glanced down, wondering how her father had learned so quickly of her begin sorted into Ravenclaw. Her cheeks began turning pink immediately.

"Well open it up! The longer you wait the worse it will be," Wylla insisted, peeling banana beside her. "It'll explode open either way."

Rose picked up the Howler with two fingers as if it were a smelly sock. Carefully, she peeled the fold open and- "Rhoswen Andromeda Malfoy! Getting sorted into Ravenclaw?! Since when have I raised you to be anything but the best? I don't care if you've lost your memory, you should have at least remembered that no Malfoy has ever been sorted outside of Slytherin! You've brought shame upon the family name and if I hear you have one grade lower than an 'O', I'll have you withdrawn from Hogwarts and sent to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons. I'm of a right mind to have you shipped there right now for this tomfoolery. And if I hear a word about you trapezing with anyone other than respectable pure blooded witches and wizards, you will face my wrath when you return home for the holidays! One step out of line, that's all it will take!"

The letter glared at her before ripping itself to pieces in front of her. The Great Hall had been shocked into silence, no doubt listening to the Howler that Malfoy had gotten. Jeers and laughter from the nearby Slytherin table indicated that they'd clearly heard the contents of the letter. Not that it was difficult to, her father's deep booming voice resounded through the entire Great Hall as if it were on a megaphone.

Rolling up her copy of the Daily Prophet, Rose grabbed a muffin and her satchel bag, not bothering to wither in the Great Hall were several sets of eyes were on her. Of all the people to be reincarnated into, why did it have to be a Malfoy? Now, she was even more pleased that she'd chopped her hair off and put three piercings in each of her ears. She wasn't going to be the smart and pretty witch that grew up to marry into a pureblood family. She rejected the idea and would risk alienating her family and inheritance to do what she believed right.

"Rose wait up!" Tommy called, Wylla striding close behind him.

"We've got to get to class," Rhoswen murmured through a mouth full of muffin, committing the atrocity of talking with her mouth full.

"Helluva Howler. Man your family is just as bad as you claimed," Wylla remarked with a bit of a smirk.

"Now you get it?" she mumbled, recalling the twists of the main halls that would lead her to History of Magic. The three Ravenclaws found themselves in a class with Hufflepuff, in which was dusty and not cleaned in some time. They occupied a throng of desks in the front center, intrigued to find that their professor was actually a ghost.

"Rumor says that he fell asleep in front of his fireplace and passed away, but didn't realize it. He simply went back to work the next day without missing a beat," Wylla murmured, leaning over her desk so that Tommy and Rose could hear.

Professor Binns' visage was that of an elderly man with a crown of hair, the top of his head sleek and shiny. A set of half-moon spectacles slid down his nose and he was dressed in plain professor robes. Rhoswen set her parchment and book on her desk eagerly, but what turned into excitement quickly faded when the bell rang and Binns began going over a short syllabus and launching into their first lesson on Uric the Oddball.

In her previous life as Kelsy, History and English had always been among her strongest subjects. While listening to the ghostly professor drone on was certainly not delightful in the slightest, the heat of the room making her lashes flutter like the wings of a lethargic butterfly, the words weaved an intricate story in her head. Rose could see the words that Binns detailed, a few drops of ink on her parchment indicating that she'd hesitated and missed a date. Glancing up into her book, she found the date he had referenced and scrawled it down. If anything, she had a good memory. Not anything astounding like photographic or eidetic, but she was good at recalling history because it reminded her of storytelling.

Memories floated in her head, those of her mother sitting on the edge of her bed and reading her different stories each evening. The warmth of an autumn room tucked beneath various patterned quilts, the dim light of a lamp sitting on a nightstand, and the thick luminous chestnut curls that tumbled down her mother's back when the cover of the red book flashed and Kelsy cocked her head delightfully. This was the first chapter book they were going to be reading together. Clearing her throat, her mother began;

"_Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense._

_Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large mustache. Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbors. The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere-_"

But the image snapped away and Rose was jostled from her daydreaming as parchment paper was being shuffled and slid into bags, inkwells being corked, and quills delicately placed in containers or haphazardly being shoved into pockets without care for the integrity of the feather.

_I suppose that's one thing Rhoswen and I do have in common. We don't have a mother,_ she thought, beginning to pack her own belongings She never had inquired as to where Mrs. Malfoy was, but there was an obvious vacancy of a woman's touch throughout the mansion. Could Rhoswen see her now, residing in her body from whatever afterlife she was enduring? The thought made her shudder as she rejoined Tommy and Wylla.

"Uhg, that class is going to kill me," Wylla groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as well.

No one seemed to have taken notice that Rose had dozed off and had been spending time recalling the beginning of the first Harry Potter book. She was slightly puzzled that her mind pulled up that event, but thinking of her late mother made her shake her head again. Old painful memories from a world that didn't exist.

Winding through the castle, the trio found their way to their Transfiguration class. Immediately, Rose took notice that Gryffindor were shuffling in front of them. One such paused in front of them and Tommy brightened up.

"Oh, Lily, how's Gryffindor?" he asked the girl as she came up with a new friend beside her.

"Not too bad, but it's a bit early to tell, plus-"

"Malfoy," Sirius's sneering voice floated toward her.

Rose turned her eyes to see Sirius and James approaching with a new companion in tow. It was not yet Remus Lupin, but a boy with mousy blonde hair and a pair of very buck teeth. He wasn't so obviously rat-like as the movies portrayed, but he had a round face and pudgy form, not yet hinting at how grotesque he would grow come the future. Rose had the overwhelming urge to punch him in the face for something he had yet to commit.

"Black," she retorted just as haughtily.

"What's with the hair? Are you trying to prove some sort of point?"

"If I am it's none of your business," she replied evenly.

"You could shave your head and you'd still be a Malfoy," James reminded her with an arrogant smile.

"And the both of you can smile all you want and it doesn't make either of you less of condescending jerks. Now excuse me, I've got a class to get to," Rose fumed before brushing her way into the classroom. Picking the seat closes tot the front she began to irritably remove her items from her satchel and arrange them neatly in front of her, trying to shake of the anger. If this was how it was going to be, then she'd have to learn how to ignore them. Eventually, they'd get no rise out of her and would find fun elsewhere.

"I think your hair looks very nice," Lily said, taking a seat next to her. Wylla and Tommy had sat at the adjoining desk behind them.

Rose subconsciously reached up and tucked some of her shorter hair behind her ear, a sheepish smile graced her features. "Thanks... I didn't really care if it suited me. The length was just annoying me."

"It's practical," Lily agreed, pushing back her own long hair which she had neatly braided. "I wish I had the same gall as you. I couldn't part with my hair."

"Your hair is such a lovely shade..." Rose told her, beginning the circle of compliments between the two of them before the bell for the beginning of class rang. Yet, there was no McGonagall as the class continued to gabber on. Rose only halted when she noticed the brown tabby cat perched on the desk, tail flicking curiously.

There were dark markings beneath the feline's eyes almost like spectacles.

Rose cleared her throat and looked expectantly at her peers and then to the cat on the desk. None of them seemed to comprehend why she was eyeing the animal, but they silenced themselves altogether and waited patiently for the start of class. Raucous laughter resounded from the back of the classroom and from the corner of her eye the form of a parchment airplane that had been sailing the length of the class was visible. What had been done beforehand was unbeknownst to her, but she knew the source of the laughter.

The feline leapt off the desk and in midway shifted from cat to witch. McGonagall took herself in stride, pointing her wand up to where the airplane fluttered, propelled by magic. With a simple wave of her wand, she required no utterance to burn it to a sizzling crisp. The corner that had previously been roaring with laughter was so silent that you could hear a pin drop. A wry smile twisted up to Rose's lips as she and her peers all sat prim and proper.

"I will have no tomfoolery in my classroom. Do I make myself clear Mr. Potter and Mr. Black?" McGonagall asked sharply, her bright eyes glinting from beneath her spectacles.

"Our apologies professor. We did not know you were here," James told her with an air of aloofness, as if he still cared little for the authority that McGonagall was trying to assert.

"It matters naught if I am in the classroom. When the bell rings I expect all students to be in their seats and prepared for the start of the lesson. Next time, detention," she told him before sweeping around, her emerald robes shimmering around her feet as she returned to the front of the classroom. A low murmur from James and Sirius drew her glare again, shutting them up. "Now, if we may begin, there are a few rules that would like to set before continuing with the lesson. I expect students to be on time and prepared for the bell ringing and there will be absolutely no speaking while I speak. No fooling around or shenanigans will be tolerated in my classroom." Each word was punctuated as she slid her eyes over the classroom, remaining especially long on James and Sirius.

After driving her point home, she began reviewing the expected material that they would cover that year. This included the Transfiguration alphabet, the formula, how to turn a desk into a pig, Match to needle, the Switching Spell, Mice to Snuffboxes, the Avifors Spell, and Target to matchbox. They had just begun copying down the alphabet and learning what each symbol meant when the bell rang and Rose lifted her head, astounded that the past couple of hours had flown by so swiftly.

While collecting her things, there was a slight wind that nearly tossed her parchment. Rose slammed her fingers over the top and glanced up to see the slender form of her professor bending over the desk and inspecting the work. However, this was not the subject on McGonagall's mind as she scrutinized the alphabet that Rhoswen had copied.

"Just a moment Ms. Malfoy," she requested, stepping back as the rest of the students filed out, just completing their first day at Hogwarts.

Rose felt her skin prickle, hairs standing straight up as Wylla threw her a sideways glance and then departed with the class. Once they were alone in the Transfiguration room, McGonagall retrieved a piece of parchment and handed it to Rose. "Take this and go to the Headmaster's office. On it is the password to enter."

"Oh," Rose said, puzzled as to why Dumbledore wished to see her privately. She tucked the password into her robe pocket and gathered the last of her items. Just as she was about to pass through the threshold of the door, McGonagall's Scottish accent rang behind her. "Very good work, Ms. Malfoy. I have high standards for you."

"Thank you, professor," Rose said, shouldering her bag more firmly before she skirted through the halls. Only when she had left the class did an impending sense of doom overcome her. Professor Dumbledore wanted to see her? Her mind slid back to the plethora of memories she had of him, book and movie. Was he to be the more passionate and cruel Dumbledore from the movies or the enigmatic and calm from the books? Thus far everything seemed to be in line with the books, but her nerves continued to twinge as she found the gargoyle guarding seemingly nothing.

Removing the password from her pocket, she read it aloud, "Hershey kiss."

The stone gargoyle, whose face was twisted up in an ugly snarl, leapt aside to reveal a slowly ascending circular staircase. Rose began following the stairs up, to which she reached an oaken double door. She had only raised her hand to knock when the doors swung open on their own accord.

Rhoswen was momentarily dazzled by everything around her. The office was circular and filled with silver trinkets and baubles that flashed around, catching her eyes. Curious instruments sat on thin legged stables, some puffing and emitting smoke. Old portraits of Headmasters and Headmistresses passed were located all around the room, some snoozing quietly in their frames. The back walls were made entirely of bookcases filled with ancient tomes that she could only dream of opening to read. Situated further back was an enormous, claw-footed desk, flanked by a bird's perch on which a beautiful bird with long tail plumage sat, cocking a head at her.

Rose trailed forward, her head turning as she drew in all of the various decorations and trinkets glittering in the room. She even spotted the Sorting Hat sitting on a shelf behind the desk and felt her stomach sink to her feet.

Dumbledore sat at the desk in a set of silvery robes with golden stars embroidering the silky fabric. His hat was cocked slightly off and his half-moon glasses had slid down his nose. "Ah, Professor McGonagall sent you, I presume?"

Rose nodded mutely.

"Please, sit down," he gave a simple wave of his wand and conjured a plush red chair on the other side of his desk for her to sit. Rose sank into the squishy chair and tried not to be disconcerted by this meaning, but when her eyes came to rest on the Sorting Hat again she scrunched her eyes shut and wondered what was going to happen.

"Do you know why you're here?" he asked her kindly, setting a crimson feather quill into its inkwell.

"I have my suspicions," Rose admitted honestly.

Dumbledore settled back into his chair and interlaced his fingers, his clear blue eyes analyzing her and her every fiber. His wand sat on the desk in front of him, but what hope did Rose have against him if things turned sour? Sure she knew spells, but not all of them were in good enough practice.

"The Sorting Hat had told me the most peculiar thing last night after being returned to my office. But it was queer to me that a Malfoy had been placed in another house aside from Slytherin. I had been dwelling rather deeply upon this until the Hat mentioned what he had glimpsed inside of your head... You're not Rhoswen Malfoy, are you?" his words cut through her and the only audible noise was that of the trinkets in the office that continued to move as time ticked on.

"In a sense, no," Rose answered finally, unaware of how much the Hat had seen. "Who were you?" Dumbledore asked casually, as if this idea wasn't as foreign as she would have believed.

"Kelsy Gardner..."

"Gardner... Gardner..." he murmured beneath his breath. "Did you take your mother's maiden name by chance?"

"I..." her brows furrowed and she gazed at Dumbledore, transfixed on him. "How did you know that? I-... er, Kelsy, wasn't from this world."

"A moment," Dumbledore stood up and went to his bookcase, wiggling his long fingers until he located what he was looking for. He flipped through some of the pages and then with a small, "Aha!", came round with a Hogwarts yearbook. "Does she look familiar?"

Rose glanced down at the student named Felicia Gardner and her heart leapt up into her throat. A teenager with dark luminous chestnut curls and smiling eyes was grinning at her. She found herself gripping the book feverishly, unable to tear her gaze from the picture of her mother. "How? How is this possible? She was in my world, she was my mom-"

"I do not know how, but she was a student here some years ago. She married Abraxas Malfoy and..." Dumbledore's gaze settled on her.

"And Rhoswen was her daughter too," she murmured. "But time and..." she fell back into the seat and propped her elbow on the edge of Dumbledore's desk so that she could hold her head up.

"The magic to traverse between planes of existence is very tricky and complex. Wizards have tried in the past to never return. In fact, due to how dangerous it is, the Ministry outlawed it more than a century ago. I have read that time flows differently within each realm and it is entirely possible that your mother did exist in both places. I recall she disappeared some 8 odd years ago without a trace. What year were you from?"

"2019. I was 19... I... These were all just fairytales. Books and films that we would watch and wish we could be in," Rose's resolve was crumbling and she began spewing all the information to Dumbledore before she could stop herself. "I know things. Things that won't happen for decades. I know when you will die. How you will die. I know how other people will die. Rhoswen Malfoy wasn't intended to live and now I'm here..."

"Lemondrop?" Dumbledore broke in abruptly. When she lifted her head she saw that he had a glass jar with yellow candies in it.

Rhoswen took it and sucked on the candy to alleviate her stress.

"Your mother was a Seer and an impeccable mind. I know naught of what she saw in the future, but perhaps this was all part of her plan. To bring forth a child who knew future timeline so that they could alter it, prevent certain things or deaths from happening," the jolly smile had faded, though his voice was still even and gentle.

"But that's so dangerous. I'm dangerous. I shouldn't be here," Rhoswen insisted.

"But you are and you're an asset that your mother arranged to be here," Dumbledore said sternly. "The magic that brought you here is elaborate, the inner workings I can only scratch at the surface of without picking at your mother's mind."

"And are you going to just let me continue school? Are you going to tell the Ministry?" she asked him nervously.

"No," Dumbledore chuckled. "However... I would like to take some precautions to be certain that no one else discovers the nature of your knowledge. Are you familiar with a Blood Pact?"

"Is it similar to an Unbreakable Vow?"

"In ways. Draw your wand."

Per instructed, she drew her wand and mirrored Dumbledore. He touched his wand to his open palm and cut into his flesh with the pale wood. Rose followed suit, her hand stinging as her flesh was exposed and the cut began blossoming with tiny liquid rubies.

"Now your hand," he requested.

They pressed hands together, the blood mingling as Dumbledore spoke clearly. "Upon here-therein, we shall speak nothing of your past as Kelsy Gardner or your knowledge of the future. Nor shall we share this knowledge with anyone else or be the consequences of this pact," he stated.

Two glowing drops of blood lifted from between their fingers and floated into the air above their hands. Ornate glass began to spin around the blood in a tear shaped vial before enclosing the blood completely. Dumbledore moved his hand and plucked the piece from out of the air.

"I will keep this here for safekeeping," he told her, standing up to tuck it away in a hidden drawer. "Now, you do understand the sanctity of our pact, correct?"

"Bad things will happen if I talk about it, right?" she presumed, glancing at her palm which had healed after the pact had been made.

"Yes, so for both of our sakes, we shall leave the subject here and tonight."

"I wish you could just wipe my memory," she murmured, standing up and gathering her bag.

"Knowledge is always a burden," Dumbledore said with a small, but sad smile. "Now, off you go. I am eager to see how you do in your classes, Ms. Malfoy."

Rose breathed a laugh. "Have a good day professor," she bid before heading out the oaken doors and down the stairs.

His words hung heavy over her head. She was glad that someone else knew and that it was Dumbledore. The burden of her knowledge didn't feel as heavy, though Dumbledore hadn't inquired about any of it. Perhaps he was wise in doing so, seeing that he would also become a liability if he knew, possibly diverting the future on his own. The pact made her more comfortable, but on the other hand she wondered just who her mother was. How had her mother lived in both this world and hers? How had she specifically found a world where this world was just a fiction made into a book? The amount of work, skating beneath the Ministry's eyes, and meticulous research she must have done was unfathomable. On top of that, Kelsy's world had to move at a much quicker rate of time for any of this to have worked.

_I wonder if she had a Time-Turner,_ Rose thought when another thought struck her. Had her mother set the trap for Rhoswen to induce her into a coma? How had she controlled when she, as Kelsy, would die? There were so many tiny variables such as being late for work and being strapped for money. She had to have had help. There's no way this is possible for one person to accomplish.

Her stomach growled noisily, reminding her that she'd had a small breakfast and yet to have lunch. She was wanting to study her Transfiguration alphabet so that she could commit it to memory before the next expected lesson in a few days. The distant morning where she had received the Howler was the last thing on her mind as she waltzed into the Great Hall and sat down, retrieving her notes to begin making flashcards so that she could pester Wylla to help her study.

She must have missed them, so she kept to herself as she pulled out her alphabet and began going over her notes while she munching on a sandwich. Rose might have stayed in the hall if not for a loud group at the Hufflepuff table. Deciding that she had finished, she packed up her notes and started for the library.

Rhoswen was not ready for the enormity of the library when she entered. She had been expecting rows of books, but not 12 rows high or including various floors and terraces that required climbing stairs to reach the upper sections of the library. It was rather dark aside from the golden chandeliers that hung in the center of the library with wax dripping down the arms like stalactites. Dark antique tables sat between the wide aisles with chairs and a lamp that provided more light.

There were various sitting areas around the dark and regal library. Malfoy Manor had a library, but it was barely a tenth of the size of what Hogwarts possessed. She must have been walking around jaw dropped, because the librarian glared at her tartly and she snapped her mouth shut and found a place to sit down. There was no talking in the library, bringing upon a pleasant silence as she sat down at a table near the cathedral style window that gazed out onto the grounds. Rose stared ponderously for a few minutes before she shuffled out her notes and began rewriting them in an attempt to keep them fresh in her head.

She became so involved in her task that she barely noticed the scraping of the chair across from her or that someone had sat with her until she went to dab her quill into the inkwell and noticed that it'd gone dry. Her eyes rose and she saw a sandy haire Gryffindor working on the far side of the table with his head down. Was he a werewolf now? What was the name of that potion that would help him retain consciousness while he was a werewolf? He hadn't yet settled in with James's group which made her curious.

Why do I want to help him so badly? she wondered silently as she tried to turn her attention back to her work after replacing her inkwell. She eventually swapped her Transfiguration out for History of Magic, going through the chapter she had dozed off during so that she could flesh out her notes much better. Time slipped by and before she knew it, the librarian was skirting through the aisles and snapping at lingering students to begin packing up.

"I think that's our call," Rose murmured across the table, rousing Remus's attention. Remus's eyes slid down the aisle to see Pince darting around and corralling students out.


End file.
